


Immortal, Inevitable, Ineffable

by JacklynnHyde



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Asexual Aziraphale (Good Omens), Asexual Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens), Asexual Character, Asexual Crowley (Good Omens), Asexuality, Declarations Of Love, Fluff, Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), Love Confessions, M/M, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-22
Updated: 2019-09-22
Packaged: 2020-10-26 01:10:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 909
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20733764
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JacklynnHyde/pseuds/JacklynnHyde
Summary: It’s not unusual to re-evaluate and reflect on one’s life after periods of extreme stress, danger, or change.  Given this, there can be no argument as to the reason why this one particular concern bubbled along with the champagne at the tip of Aziraphale’s tongue.





	Immortal, Inevitable, Ineffable

**Author's Note:**

> Edited but un-beta'd so apologies if I missed something.

“To the world.”

“To the _world_.”

Aziraphale’s smile relaxed – but absolutely did not fade – as the two old friends sipped their champagne. Savouring the flavour and the sensation of bubbles on his tongue, the Angel blinked languidly before pulling the glass away from his lips. Now, in that moment of calm, their time in the others’ respective head offices and the stress of not only the past week, but of the last 11 years, convalesced into a cacophony of thought. It’s not unusual to re-evaluate and reflect on one’s life after periods of extreme stress, danger, or change. Given this, there can be no argument as to the reason why this one particular concern bubbled along with the champagne at the tip of Aziraphale’s tongue.

“Crowley, my dear?” The demon, on hearing his name, smirked in that fond, familiar sort of way and raised his eyebrows expectantly behind his glasses. Knowing that this particular set of ticks was as close to a _Yes, what is it?_ he was going to get, Aziraphale continued. “In light of all that has happened, I thought... That is, I believe that we should be more honest with each other.”

Crowley’s smirk turned delightfully fiendish before stretching across his face into a wide grin. He tilted his head in an unmistakably deliberate manner and stretched himself further over his chair. A chair, it should be said, which must have been the recipient of a quick miracle; after all, there’s no other way the demon could be so sprawled out and still be sitting in it. Somehow, his voice also managed to take on the same mischievous and sprawled posture in the air as he let his curiosity unfurl from where he usually kept it stowed away. “My my, Angel. Have you been keeping secrets? Got some long-held sins to confess? Oh! Is this about Alexandria? Because I may have taken credit for it, but I think we both know that if either of us was going to cause a fuss over a bunch of books–”

“Don’t be ridiculous! I would never–! I am _still_ so–! Honestly.” Crowley chuckled in genuine delight at the Angel’s outrage. However, it only took a few seconds for Aziraphale to regain his composure and return to his original train of thought. “I merely meant to say that there is so much between us that has been unsaid – for good reason I suppose. Or perhaps it was just some implicit agreement we had. But, regardless–”

Placing his champagne flute delicately back on the table between them, Aziraphale folded his hands in his lap; a posture that while giving the illusion of stiffness and discomfort to an outsider was actually a pose he adopted when he was at his most content. After all, an ethereal being wouldn’t show comfort the same a human being would, regardless of the outward similarity in their appearances. “Crowley, given everything, I feel it’s important to say aloud at least once that I do truly love you. Deeply. And in every way one being can love another.”

Crowley’s grin turned soft and, behind his glasses, his eyes took on the sort of kindness that would be utterly impossible to convey if those eyes were in any other of Her creatures – human, snake, or otherwise. His curiosity faded as something far less mischievous took its place and he huffed out a soft laugh through his nose. “I know, Angel. Of course, I know.”

Said Angel smiled in an appropriately angelic fashion – a smile that Crowley would reluctantly admit always made him fight back his own grin. You would think then that if there was any moment where said response would be appropriate, it would have been right then – enjoying lunch with his best friend after saving the world and being left to their own devices – but he still fought it back. This time, however, it was because he had something he wanted to say. The demon cleared his throat. “And, if there _are_ to be no more secrets or unsaid...things or what-not, and assuming you don’t buy into that whole _demons can’t love_ nonsense that humans keep–”

“And I don’t.” Crowley’s mouth snapped shut, more out of surprise than anything else. Aziraphale rarely interrupted anyone when they were speaking. In fact, , Crowley recalls an instance sometime in the sixteenth century of being drunk enough that his words were either totally incomprehensible or a disjointed harmony of sibilance and groans, and Aziraphale had sat listening for the whole half-hour it had taken the demon to form the words _I’m going to sleep_ before making so much as a whisper of a reply. Across from him, the Angel’s smile somehow became warmer and softer as he reached across the table to grasp his companion’s hand. “I know as well, my dear. I’ve always known.”

For a long moment they just sat like that, matching soft smiles on their faces with their hands grasped together on the white linen tablecloth. But then, after those long moments passed, everything went back to how it was before. Aziraphale took up his fork to have another bite of his cake as he began talking about the merits of different classical composers and Crowley took a long sip from his own champagne, nodding along with the Angel’s enthusiastic monologue with that familiar smirk on his face.

Besides, why should anything have changed? After all, love had always been a part of their normal.

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos and Comments Appreciated!


End file.
